


it's only fun (but just because your clothes are off)

by haentai



Series: what Padfoot wants, Moony provides. [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Sirius Black, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Remus Lupin, Gay Sirius Black, M/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Spanking, Top Remus Lupin, apparently verses dont exist in this world sorry guys, i think, just friends helping each other yknow?, sirius is a bottom and he needs dick, thats literally the plot, well there is a lil bit of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23658364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haentai/pseuds/haentai
Summary: For the last couple of days, Sirius Orion Black has been in A Mood. And who is Remus, if not the forever helping friend his mates can turn to when in need? It's just that, Remus hasn't helped his mates with this particular problem before.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Series: what Padfoot wants, Moony provides. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703464
Comments: 11
Kudos: 302





	it's only fun (but just because your clothes are off)

**Author's Note:**

> title from _sink into the floor_ by feng suave

For the last couple of days, Sirius Orion Black has been in A Mood. Which means the rest of the Marauders have to be wary of Sirius’ deeds even more than usual. Because Sirius in A Mood means Sirius will most probably flip a shit (or a table) very soon, which consequently means Bad Shit will Happen. And usually, that’s what James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin want to avoid, despite what the rest of the Hogwarts population believes.

Sirius Orion Black in A Mood is the human equivalent of the calm before the storm. In essence, it’s Sirius’ typical rudeness and self-conceit multiplied by a thousand, it’s him snapping at James whenever he brings up Lily Evans, him belittling Peter whenever he doesn’t understand something in class, him scowling at Remus whenever he tells Sirius to cut it out already. 

It’s him brooding in the corner of their dorm room, blaring Scorpions through those chunky headphones Andromeda bought him last Christmas, him smoking fag after fag until the smell of smoke radiates from his hair and robes. It’s him worrying his friends over his mental health; because they know Sirius Black gets pissy before he gets murderous– he ignores everyone and everything until he starts switching his utmost attention to hexing innocent Slytherins and getting in detentions. 

The thing is, Sirius doesn’t get like this often, his mood swings don’t usually consist in shutting out his best mates. Thus, on a Thursday evening in late spring, when Sirius is rummaging through his trunk seethingly, only to retrieve his pack of fags, James is biting his lip, watching him. And he still watches as Sirius grabs his wand and some thin robes, but when he sees Sirius striding toward the door of their dorm, he speaks. 

“Off so late, mate?” James’ tone is light and approachable, despite his eyes which divulge his unease. 

But in response, he still gets a ‘bugger off, James’ and the door being slammed closed from Sirius. At which James sighs heavily and takes off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. On his own bed, Peter doesn’t seem to know whether he wants to chew anxiously at his nails or chew anxiously at the crisps he pinched from the kitchens. He settles for the latter before speaking, “reckon he might have problems with his family again?” 

Both Peter and Remus wait for James’ answer, Peter behind his comically large bag of crisps, while Remus behind his two-feet-long essay about the Riots of Dwarves against Royal Faes in 1546. After a moment, James lets himself fall on his bed, putting on his glasses and scrubbing at his face. 

He groans once, before replying, “don’t think so.” Then he turns to Peter. “I bloody doubt that his _lovely_ parents would be keen on owling him after they disherited him. And he hasn’t talked to Regulus since last year, remember?” There’s a moment of silence in the room, and James groans a second time and rubs again at his face. “I mean, I don’t _think_ he has. He hasn’t said anything to me about it. He surely would’ve said something, right? He always says–” 

“Calm down, Prongs,” Remus cuts in, calm as ever, fiddling with his quill. “Of course he would’ve said something– you’re his best mate. But if this _is_ about his family, then we’ll know in a few days. You know how Sirius is.” 

And of course, James knows. All of them know how Sirius is. The only times in which he doesn’t end up complaining about whatever’s bothering him are the ones where his family is involved. If this Mood is as grave as they think it is, then Sirius’ll end up exploding instead of confiding into them what’s been on his mind all this time. 

It doesn’t often happen that Sirius isolates himself from them, but there have been cases where the problem doesn’t lie in his disgusting parents, a distant baby brother or despicable cousins. There’ve been times when the problem is Sirius himself– along with his demons and self-hate and insecurities, but he always works through them in the end. Remus isn’t sure what outcome he wishes this situation to have. 

When James realises that Remus is right, he groans one last time and flops on his stomach. 

* * *

It's five days before the full moon, and three-quarters of the Marauders are silently lounging in the dorm room. Well, as quietly as their dorm room can be– which by default is obnoxiously loud. James is distinctively not being quiet as he brews and mutters into whatever explosive potion he found helpful for their last Big Prank of this year. Inside the cauldron, there's a profoundly crimson-coloured, thick substance, very reminiscent of fresh blood. 

Peter is hidden behind his own scarlet bed curtains. Distinctive skin slapping sounds are coming from there. 

“You forgot the Silencing Charms again, Wormtail,” says Remus loudly, from the floor, where he's sorting through the neglected books under his bed. And for a long moment, it all goes still, and if it wasn’t for the viscous bubbles popping inside James’ cauldron, it’d seem that time stopped. But then there’s rustling and a spell being whispered and then that unmistakable devoid silence, sharp and deafening. 

Just as Remus’ eye catches a particular book under his bed and reaches to get it, James barks a laugh, which quickly turns into a round of him rolling on the floor, giggling like a girl. With watery eyes and hurting cheeks, snickering still, James finally braces himself next to his bed, looking at Remus and Remus swears he sees a tear rolling down James’ face. 

Cheeks stretched into a wide grin, he says, “we should get Wormy a girlfriend one of these days, huh, Moony?” James rubs at his eyes, knocking his glasses askew. “Maybe then the poor sod would remember to put Silencing Charms from time to time.” 

Taking his time responding, Remus skims over the book from under his bed, before flipping to the first page where crisp, faded letters _Crime and Punishment_. The pages are yellow and dog-eared, and Remus remembers those sleepless nights in First Year when all he hoped for was a friend. When everything was scary and beautiful at the same time. When eleven-year-old Remus Lupin himself was scared shitless and enthralled by all that meant Hogwarts. 

Now, at sixteen, Remus just glances up from his book to shoot James an unamused look, before settling down against the bed frame and starting to read. “No need to call the kettle black, Prongs. I’ve already heard too many of your fantasies involving Lily. Wonder who the real pathetic sod is.” 

“Oi! At least I’m not a pathetic virginal sod!” 

At that Remus raises one single eyebrow and he can’t help himself from looking at his friend from over the book. He smirks. “Oh, are you not?” 

And there’s no doubt that the flush on James’ cheeks is from Remus’ comment, and not just residual from his earlier outburst– Remus knows that much. The smirk on his lips only widens when James sputters, “what, aren’t you?” 

Only shrugging casually, Remus gets back to his reading. “I just thought you were ‘saving yourself’ for ‘the love of your life’”. Just before James gets to say something else, the dorm door is thrown open, then closed, all four walls seemingly shaking with the force of it all. 

Sirius Black is standing in front of said door, positively fuming. Remus swears he sees little trails of smoke coming out of his ears he’s that red in the face. Jet black hair is uncharacteristically unkempt, there’s a button missing from Sirius’ crumpled shirt and a visible smudge of eyeliner is running down Sirius’ left cheek as if he’s been rubbing at his eye for a long time. 

Not to mention the flaring of his nostrils and the murdering look on his face. Or the unusual breathlessness. But like a man on a mission, Sirius marches to the closest bed, which unfortunately happens to be Peter’s and throws the curtains to the side. _Fortunately_ for all of them though, Peter just seems to have finished his self-loving session, since he was in the middle of getting his trousers on (pants already in their rightful place, thank Merlin). 

But now Peter’s gaping horrified at Sirius. Sirius, who's moving out of his way with surprising speed when Sirius falls face-first into the bed, knocks over one of his pillows, using the other to muffle the piercing scream that he lets out. 

While Sirius is still screaming, the rest of the Marauders are transfixed in their places. Peter, with his trousers around his thick thighs, James halfway into getting up, Remus with his _Crime and Punishment_ in his lap. The potion forgotten. All that is left are Sirius' roars of ‘I fucking hate my life!’ and ‘I fucking hate everything!’ and ‘I fucking hate everyone!’ and ‘I want to fucking die!” And then there seems to be a faint sound of an ink bottle exploding. 

It’s a long time until Sirius calms down, but even when he does, there’s the knowledge that anything can trigger him again. Hence when James moves to go near him, he doesn’t touch him, just lies on Peter’s bed. 

“Padfoot?” He asks, voice carefully small and unassuming. “Are you okay?” 

“What the fuck do you fucking think, you fuckwit?” Sirius snarls into his (Peter’s) pillow, before burying his face deeper into it. Cringing, Remus thinks of the things Peter might’ve done with that pillow just minutes ago, but decides that maybe he should shut up (for now). 

Looking at James, Remus sees a thoughtful expression on his face, while his hazel eyes are determined. “I think that you’re not okay, Pads.” When Sirius just groans into the pillow, with no sign of wanting to move, James tries again. “Would you like to tell us why?” 

Once again, it takes a while for Sirius to comply. Still, finally, he’s sitting up on the bed, leaning on the headboard, with the pillow fit snugly between his crossed legs. Some more of the eyeliner got smudged on the pillow, leaving dark streaks on his cheeks. Sirius is pouting, and there’s murder in his stormy, silvery eyes when he glares at James. 

“It’s not like you’d understand anyway,” he huffs then. The blatancy of the fact that Sirius forgot the rest of the Marauders still in the room doesn’t surprise Remus. It’s a known fact that Sirius’ confidant is James Potter, his best mate, his right hand. It’s easy for them to get lost in their own worlds, filled with mischief and grandiose pranks and impune freedom, so Remus doesn’t blame them. 

Remus watches as James bites at his lip. Between his dark eyebrows, he can notice the tension of wanting but not being able to understand what Sirius is going through. At last, he sets his jaw, determined, and says “but I want to– understand, I mean.” 

And then they’re watching each other with so much intensity, Remus can almost feel the magic brewing silently between his two mates, dripping like molasses. If he wasn’t already aware of how painfully heterosexual James is (disregarding his borderline obsessive behaviour towards one redhead Gryffindor girl in their year) and how Sirius is touchy-feely with everyone, Remus could’ve betted the entirety of his chocolate stash on the fact Sirius and James might be an item. Or that at least they harbour feelings for each other. 

All of a sudden, he’s brought back to the time when he used to carry feelings of jealousy toward their relationship. When the whole Two Year and a good amount of Third Year were spent fuming over the closeness between the two. And oh, how he wished he was that important to them. He learned to accept his feelings as it’d be the only way to get over them. To understand that their friendship with him– be it not as profound as the one towards each other– was better than nothing. 

Not really sure how much time has passed, Remus startles when Sirius gets off the bed suddenly, to his feet, only to unfasten his tight trousers (charmed to be as such, of course) and pull them down his legs. Remus is trying his hardest to not let his gaze wander from his mate’s hands, down nicely shaped thighs, strong knees (unlike Remus’ knobbly ones), athletic calves, muscular and dusted with fine hair, aristocratic ankles covered by his trousers, down to his chunky combat boots. 

Gripping at the book he forgot he had in his lap, Remus tears his eyes from Sirius’ legs, afraid his mate might spot him gawk like a major creep. Instead, they land again on Sirius’ hands, and Remus is horrified as he watches Sirius bringing the hem of his black, small pants down his hips. 

And Remus positively hates himself when he can’t even look at the others to engage in their reactions– because Remus is too busy _gawking_ at Sirius’ sharp hips, soft in the right places and spotless and flawless and, and– _taunting him_. 

“Well?!” Sirius spits, and it seems like that’s enough to get Remus out of his weird headspace. Looking at James, Remus takes note of James’ equally aghast face. But then Sirius snaps his fingers and James jumps, expression morphing into one of confusion. 

“What,” he asks, and Sirius looks murderous at James’ stupid response. 

“Well?! What do you see?” Sirius demands, gesturing wildly to his hips. When James just looks lost and states ‘nothing’, even though it comes out more as a question, Sirius jumps again, shrieking “EXACTLY!” But it doesn’t help much with anyone’s confusion. 

Sirius shoves at his pants (Remus resolutely doesn’t let his eyes stray away from Sirius’ enraged face to what those minuscule pants might hide). “That’s exactly the bloody problem, there’s nothing there!” 

“...Mate, are you sure you–” 

“I need to get fucked!” 

If Peter didn’t choose that exact moment to choke on a cauldron cake Remus didn’t even notice he was munching on, there'd be perfect silence in the Marauders’ Dorm Room. For several moments nothing moves, nobody breathes. But the working gears inside everyone’s heads as the significance of Sirius’ words sink in are audible. At last, Peter, chuckling awkwardly, speaks. “What?” 

And that seems to set the gates open because Sirius is, without warning, talking a mile per minute. “I haven’t had a good shag in such a bloody long time, that is driving me mad, and I’m this fucking close to ripping my hair out! There’s nothing on me! No marks! No scratches, no hickeys, not a bloody bruise, _nothing_ ! S’like there’s no decent prick in this shitty fucking school anymore, for Merlin’s wrinkly balls! Are all gay blokes in this miserable place suddenly just fucking _pants_ at getting their cocks inside an arse? I swear– Longbottom got with the Fortescue bint, and now there’s no one left that knows how to properly fuck. They’re all a bunch of fucking fairies who take it up the arse, and that’s _it_!" 

How is anyone supposed to react to this? Because Remus surely doesn’t have the slightest of clues. Neither does James, from what it seems. He’s just there, gobsmacked, jaw on the floor and shoulders hunched into himself. Remus doesn’t even have to look at Peter to know just how he looks in that moment. 

Finally, while Sirius is still fuming from his little speech, James blinks swiftly, mouth working on silent words until it closes and he gulps. “Is this,” he tries weakly, tentatively, “Is this why you’ve been acting like you had something stuck up your arse– all this time? The fact that you had _nothing_ up your arse?” 

Rolling his eyes as if James didn’t ask a perfectly reasonable question, Sirius says, “ _duh_. What the fuck d’you think, you left tit?” Then, groaning, Sirius falls on the bed beside James, toeing off his boots so he could take off the trousers still hanging off his ankles. Now only in his pants and socks, Sirius stretches on the comforter. “I feel like my dick’s gonna rust and fall off at this rate. Really thought today was gon’ be the day, mate. Like, I hook up with this buffed out bloke, and I think to myself– finally, a hunk who’s gonna fucking destroy me– _ruin me_. But then he tells me he only bottomed before? Fuck Hufflepuffs, dude. And fuck Lando Loriss, since I guess that’s what he bloody enjoys.” 

“Loriss from Hufflepuff is gay?” Peter utters, and Remus stops himself from correcting _no, he’s actually pan,_ because this feels like one of those rare situations where Remus supposes it’s for the best if he keeps his mouth shut. 

“Bloody fucking Godric, Padfoot,” James explodes then, startling everyone. “We thought you were getting worse again– _mate_ , we thought you were having problems with your _family_ , for Merlin’s sake! And apparently, you were just feeling a bit bummed out that you can’t get laid? Sirius, no pun intended, but you seriously need to drop the dramatics!” 

“ _Dramatics!_ ” Sirius splutters, getting to his feet once again, glaring at James and crossing his arms. “Excuse you, you fucking prat. This is a serious problem! Pun intended! The lack of sex in my life is concerning, and I expect all of you to understand. I should be neck-deep in cum, but instead, all I got is a severe case of blue-balls!” 

James winces at Sirius’ blunt mention of ‘cum’. “Merlin, Pads, you’re so gross sometimes. Just go shag someone, how hard can it be?” 

Instead of doing what James suggested, Sirius buries his face in his hands, screeching, clearly frustrated with James’ stupidity. “Didn’t you just hear what I said, you daft Murtlap?” At that, Remus struggles to repress his laughter, but Peter doesn’t seem to have the same results and is sorely shut up when James glares at him. 

“I can’t find anyone decent enough to shag,” Sirius wails, “they’re all a bunch of ponces who can’t put their dicks in another dude. They all bottom like a lot of tossers!” 

Even with Sirius looking as if he’s explanation was enough, James just seems genuinely puzzled. “Okay, so why don’t you shag them then,” he asks after a moment, and Sirius turns and looks at him as if he just announced that he’d fancy getting a sniff of Severus Snape's knickers. 

“Mate,” he starts, his words slow and precise like talking to a toddler, “I’m a pillow princess.” 

And while Remus is choking on his own saliva, struggling to not make much noise with his coughs, he sees Sirius throw him a strange look. Remus then decides that this conversation isn’t going to lead anywhere. So he turns his attention to the book in his lap, still scrambling for breath, wiping at his mouth just as he hears James ask ‘a pillow what?’ 

Trying his very hardest to tune out his mates’ conversation, Remus definitely doesn’t watch the way Sirius sinks into Peter’s bed, how he stretches in that gracious way only he can, and of course, he doesn’t hear how Sirius says, “I’ll fucking die one of these days if I don’t get someone to shag me properly.” 

Okay, so Remus now gets back to his book. Yep, the book– that’s on his lap, the one he should be reading; should be paying attention to. Yep. None of the Marauders is paying attention to him anyway, so Remus chooses to say nothing, instead, paying attention to the book in his lap. Yep. 

The potion explodes. 

* * *

When Remus holds the library door open for Lily to get through, she smiles and ducks her head in appreciation, before proceeding toward the Gryffindor Common Room. Their school bags are satisfyingly light, finally, desert from all those hefty books, and they’re both revelling in that fact, making their way slowly but surely through the mostly vacant corridors. 

It’s early in the evening, and until supper, the majority of the students are outside the castle, painting the school grounds with shades of happiness and youth. Their laughter proof that exams are finally over and the residue stress Disapparating under the summer sun. 

The students that aren’t already bathing in the sunlight seem to be heading towards Remus can only assume is the Quidditch Pitch. And Remus would lie if he said he didn’t enjoy the emptiness. Even with the odd group of girls giggling behind their hands, or that one couple that was past the stage of just snogging in an alcove. Though, if it weren’t for the excessive sounds, Remus doesn’t think he would’ve even told Lily that they are two students going at it. But as it is, Lily worked it out for herself, and so Remus was spared the awkwardness of explaining how he smelled the arousal on those two from a mile away. 

After shooing the girl down the Slytherin Common Room and the boy up to the Ravenclaw Tower, the two Gryffindors resume their way to their own tower. “Be grateful it was us who found you, and not some Professor!” Lily calls after the two grumbling Fifth Years, before turning back to Remus and starting her own round of grumbling. “You should’ve let me deduct points, Rem.” 

Laughing at her clearly disgruntled frown, Remus shakes her off, “oh, come on. You’re telling me you’ve never experienced the thrill of getting off in a forbidden place? It’s not like they were shagging anyway, just– having their hands in each other’s pants.” 

Lily grumbles some more, huffs and straightens her back, locking arms with Remus. She wipes the sweat off her thin brow as she says, “I can’t even understand how anyone _can_ get off in this heat.” Lily continues speaking even while she unfastens the first two buttons of her shirt, loosing up her tie, “I feel like I could flood the castle just by sweating. It’s degrading.” 

At that, Remus throws his head back, barking a laugh, the noise bouncing off the stone walls. “Agreed,” he then says, letting his arm fall from Lily’s grasp to roll the jumper sleeves up to his elbows. He’s confident that the castle is empty enough to allow the angry scars on his forearms to breathe safely. “‘M gonna catch on fire very soon.” 

And it’s not that much of a joke. With the moon so close, his body temperature is far higher than a human’s, and the heat of the summer makes the wolf skittish, restless to jump around and release some of the tension. His senses become sharper, and if Remus put his hand on his chest, he’d feel his heartbeat roaring behind his ribcage, all potent and quick. 

It seems that Lily notices Remus’ earnestness as well because she’s smiling sadly at him, now taking his hand in hers and intertwining their fingers. She swings their arms around and asks, “it’s in two days, right?” 

There isn’t much reason for Remus to pretend he doesn’t understand what she’s talking about. Hence he sighs and straightens his school bag on his shoulder. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say more. And Lily doesn’t ask, because she’s always cool like that. Always kind and protective and smart and just the best– and if it weren’t for Remus being as bent as Earth’s axis around the Sun (and if it wasn’t for a very specific dark-haired, Quidditch-obsessed, spectacled Animagus already heels-over-tits with the girl) maybe he would’ve fallen for her. 

Remus suddenly remembers that one moment in Fourth Year, when the two of them were snuggled around by gargantuan books in the library, studying for Merlin knows what exam, until Lily, with her flushed cheeks and determined green eyes, leaned over and kissed Remus square on the lips. And Remus remembers at that time, fourteen-year-old Remus deemed that situation appropriate for him to burst out ‘I’M GAY!’ in a rather loud voice. In retrospect, the way Madam Pince rushed over just to shriek at them to be quiet and to lecture them about the disrespect of the youth nowadays, doesn’t appear to be as shameful and terrifying as it was at the time. 

For what is worth, Lily’s understanding and comment of ‘it’s easier to get over someone when it’s not you they don’t like, but your gender in general,’ made the whole thing a whole lot better. Now, Remus is graced with Lily’s friendship, and he couldn't be happier. 

Again, when they reach the Fat Lady, after telling her the password (‘Flibbertigibbet’), Remus lets Lily go first through the opening before making their way through the vacate Common Room. At the base of the stairs to the dorms, they halt, for once unburdened by their school bags, looking at each other– or rather Remus looking at Lily, while Lily measures Remus with a troubled gaze. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” When Remus throws her a bewildered look, she rolls her eyes, appending. “You know, because of the…” 

Remus then suddenly gets it, but instead of reassuring her that _yes, he’s okay– he’s been going through this for over ten years, he can manage_ , Remus laughs. At her alarmed expression, his laughter subdues to a light chuckle, before he explains, “you just reminded me of Prongs. Only he can worry himself silly over mundane stuff like this.” 

Sputtering, scoffing, basically hyperbolising her offence, Lily rolls her eyes despite the visible red stains on her cheeks. “Don’t you ever compare me to that hideous Grindylow again, Remus; or I’ll have to revise our friendship.” She scoffs again, fingers playing with the cherry-red braid over her shoulder. Pursing her lips, Lily glares at Remus, “look at me being all worried about you, and you have the nerve of bringing up that annoying twat.” 

Maybe if Remus didn’t notice all the times Lily doesn’t seem to roll her eyes whenever Remus brings up the Marauders, whenever he brings up _James_ , he’d believe her comment at his mate’s address. But Remus _does_ notice how she struggles not to seem too interested when Remus is narrating about how James was the one who came up with the idea of hexing the Slytherin house to say nice things about Muggleborns. Remus assumes it’s because of the smug smile on his face that Lily huffs. “You’re just as annoying as him,” she concludes and begins walking up the stairs to the Girls Dormitory. 

He waits until Lily is at the head of the stairs, watching her as she shifts in place until at last, she turns toward him. “I was planning on staying in today, wanna join me?” 

Not being able to stop his smile at Lily’s inability to be annoyed at him, Remus shakes his head, gesturing to the school bag slung across his shoulder, rubbing at his sore muscles. “Nah,” he says, “I think I’ll just sleep the day away, I’m pretty knackered.” 

“So you were tired after all,” Lily exclaims, smug that she was right all along until she catches herself. Her expression falls into a sympathetic one. Remus can’t help but be amused. “Okay, well,” she smiles, “you know where to find me if you change your mind. Take care, love. See you tomorrow.” 

After they wave to each other, Lily disappears behind a corner, whilst Remus starts toward his own dorm room, daydreaming about his nice, plush pillows. How his head is gonna fall onto them, closing his eyes and letting sleep take him. 

But of course, Remus’ wishes never come true, and instead, he’s welcomed with music blasting through the room, and Remus recognises the song almost immediately. Now the question is, why is Pink Floyd playing in the first place when he’s the only Marauder who likes them? But then Remus sees him. 

Sirius. Sitting at one wide-open window, the seat adorned with crimson quilts and a couple of gold ornamental pillows. Smoking; the fumes swirling, twisting through the hot air and out of the window. Remus freezes at the threshold, watching Sirius smoke, David Gilmour crying how he’ll follow his love in the shadows. And Remus earnestly considers doing a three-sixty and running after Lily, telling her that he changed his mind and would like to spend his day with her. 

Unfortunately, Sirius catches his eye before Remus can move but doesn’t say anything, and all they do is stare at each other. And oh, fuck, Sirius pats the seat next to him, the grey of eyes stormy and sombre and Remus is really not looking forward to this. 

Nonetheless, he sighs, because Sirius always gets what he wants, huh? And lets his bag fall on the ground, the gentle thud not audible over the music. Remus moves with sluggish steps to the window, falling beside his mate. Taking out his wand from his trousers, Remus glides his gaze up and down on Sirius, inspecting, taking note of the ridiculous periwinkle shorts, the puppies on them jumping and running around. 

Remus could say Sirius almost looks _soft_ in them– _pretty_. Still, then again, the heavy leather jacket, worn-out but soft from usage, dropped on his shoulders says otherwise. His inky black hair sits snugly in a bun, secured tightly by Sirius’ wand. 

And then Remus sees the light love bite on the side of Sirius’ neck but doesn’t say anything, only raises one eyebrow. “ _Accio weed_ ,” he speaks with a wave of his hand and Remus’ supplies fly through the air, landing with precision in front of him. 

“Show-off.” 

Grinning, Remus unzips the bag and gets to work with deft, confident fingers, knowing that Sirius is watching. “So, what’s wrong,” Remus asks, accepting his fate, deciding that he might as well get it over with. This Sirius is the worst of them all, no matter what James says. This– _shell_ of a human, this caricature of Sirius that makes Remus want to grit his teeth and rip his hair out. This Sirius that appears whenever he’s past the point of return; when the hopelessness of reality sinks in and Sirius doesn’t care anymore. 

_For Merlin’s sake, he’s listening to Pink Floyd_ , Remus thinks exasperated, _and Sirius always makes fun of him for liking them_. It’s infuriating. 

Not being bothered enough to raise his head when he hears Sirius sighing, Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius’ response; ‘nothing, Moony’. “Really?” Remus tries again, despite himself, “because to me, it seems that it’s not ‘nothing’.” 

It looks like that’s all it takes because Sirius stomps his fag in the window frame and rests his chin on his raised knees. Closing his eyes, “I hooked up with this bloke,” he starts, and Remus rolls his eyes again. Of course. “Or at least I almost did. We didn’t even snog.” 

“Another bottom,” Remus queries, and Sirius nods. “How do you even know that? Without snogging at least?” 

At that, Sirius snorts, toying one strand of hair that fell in his eyes between two ringed fingers. “Well, he called me ‘Daddy’ and asked me if he can be my ‘good boy’,” Sirius air-quotes and chuckles lightly when Remus drops the blunt, some of the weed falling from within the paper. 

Trying to salvage some of his rapidly declining dignity, Remus coughs into his fist and starts collecting the fallen weed from the quilt. “You never know, Pads. Maybe Griffin is a service top. He still could’ve provided you with some good shagging." 

When Sirius doesn’t speak for a long time, Remus glances up from his blunt and immediately knows he did something he shouldn’t have. The look Sirius is giving him is so… _Sirius_ that Remus starts fearing for his well-being. “What,” he demands then, even though his instincts are telling him to shut up and to run far, far away. 

The shit-eating grin Sirius has plastered on his face widens, and he folds his bare legs under himself, leaning forward on his arms. “I never said I was with Griffin.” And there’s that damned glint in Sirius’ eyes; the whole depressing demeanour from before as if it flew out of the open window. 

Right. Sirius didn’t say anything about Eugene Griffin– the pretty Ravenclaw with chocolatey eyes and freckles from their Year. Remus clears his throat. What a time for his vocabulary to suddenly desert him because Remus can’t form any words. Squeaking like a jerboa, Remus folds into himself. “You didn’t?” 

“No,” Sirius smirks, and suddenly his face is too close for Remus’ liking. “I didn’t.” 

“Oh.” 

“Have something to tell me, Moony?” 

“Not really, no.” 

The git hums, “y’sure?” 

Fucking Remus and his big bloody mouth. Couldn’t he just shut the fuck up for once? After sighing, he puts the blunt aside, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I hooked up with the bloke, alright? Once– in Fifth Year,” he says defeated. And yes, maybe it wasn’t just _once_ , but really, Sirius doesn’t need to know all the technicalities. 

Sirius, who looks surprised for some reason. “Oh… did he call you ‘Daddy’ so you bailed out too,” he asks then, and Remus is horrified to see the sympathetic curve of his mouth. 

_Not exactly_ , Remus thinks– _he’s pretty sure he helped Griffin develop that particular kink_. Of course, he’s not stupid enough to actually express these things out loud, to Sirius on top of it all, for crying out loud. So he just hums, as noncommittally as he can muster it. 

But Sirius doesn’t look at all satisfied with Remus’ not-really answer, and because he’s an annoying dog who can’t live without getting what he wants, he presses on. “Didn’t think you’d be alright with another bottom calling you ‘Daddy’,” he admits, amused. And just like that, Remus is the one confused. He turns to Sirius fully, with questioning eyes and a ‘what’ on his lips. 

And then it clicks into place, like a light bulb switching on, like a bubble popping. “You think I’m a bottom,” Remus whispers, more to himself than to Sirius, fighting his urge to laugh out loud because this whole ordeal is so bloody hilarious. 

“Er,” Sirius blabbers in response, like the cultured Pureblood that he is. “You're not?” 

Oh, Merlin. Remus shakes his head at the thought, chuckling, ignoring Sirius’ intense stare, before picking up the blunt and with a snap of his fingers, lighting it up. He inhales deeply, greedy to get as high as possible considering where Remus thinks this conversation might be heading to. Waiting for the smoke to make itself at home, for the tensed muscles in his neck and back to finally relax, he offers the blunt to Sirius, who accepts it and takes a big puff. 

The air is hot and stifling, the summer sun winking at them over the Forbidden Forest. The world feels sluggish and the music wafting through the room is lazy, soothing and soft as David sings about that same high time Remus knows very well, _Cymbaline_. 

Remus knows Sirius needs only two puffs to get pleasantly high, so when he leans into Remus mid-inhale and asks ‘shotgun me,’ Remus is surprised. They watch each other for a moment or two, their eyes red and lids low, until Remus notices Sirius’ stare falling down to his lips before snapping back up. 

And it’s in that moment when Remus becomes aware of the fact that Sirius has lips– nice lips, pouty and all that. They’re thin but rosy, with the lower lip just a tad bit fuller than the upper one, the Cupid’s bow falling in an elegant curve. And the seemingly constant (mocking) raise of Sirius’ right lip corner now missing. And Remus ogles when Sirius’ tongue peeks out to lick at that lower lip. 

There’s a question on Remus’ mind and lips, but he just inhales deeply from the blunt between his fingers, almost having forgotten about it. His other hand cups gently the back of Sirius’ neck, keeping him close, waiting in case Sirius might change his mind before he looks into those grey eyes. 

He doesn’t even realise that Sirius himself has been holding on to Remus until the hands knitted into his knitted jumper tighten and bring Remus closer. Chests now touching, Remus can physically feel the tingles on his skin from having Sirius glued to him, like an itch surprisingly pleasing– that makes him aware of how alive he is. 

The expression Sirius has when Remus leans in, lips touching lightly, electrifyingly, suits him, Remus thinks. In one moment, he’s exhaling the smoke into Sirius’ ajar mouth, and in the next, Remus is pushing Sirius into the pillows on the seat, snogging him, blunt thrown haphazardly on the ground. Sirius’ hands wind up in his hair, around his back, keeping Remus tightly against him, all while Remus swipes his tongue along the side of Sirius’ lower lip. 

When Remus laps his way into his mouth, Sirius moans lowly, Remus growling back, letting him know that he can feel it too. That heat between them, different from the one that usually settles around in summer. This heat reverberates from inside Remus, causing his toes to curl in his shoes, his body to shake, his mind to unclutter itself from all thoughts. 

It’s so different from the usual high Remus gets from smoking. Unlike then, now Remus doesn’t dream about places he’d rather be in, his imagination doesn’t run wild with fancy pictures and magical concoctions. This time, Remus wants to remain exactly where he is, with the lovely buzzing in his ears and mind. With his hand firmly closed around Sirius’ naked thigh, with Sirius’ smoky taste on his tongue. 

In the middle of nipping at Sirius’ jaw, right when Remus is about to bite harshly at that enticing spot behind his ear, Sirius lets out a shattered whine. “Moony, fuck me,” he says then and with that whatever spell was cast upon them breaks. 

Remus springs on his knees, far from Sirius’ heat, with his eyes wide and scared, stupid mind only then processing what happened. “Oh, fuck, Sirius, I– I’m so _sorry_ ,” Remus cries, hands tugging at his hair– _Merlin, Remus must be the biggest bloody prat that ever exists, fucking idiot what was he thinking–_

“Moony, wait,” Sirius tries, but Remus doesn’t listen– can’t listen because he just ruined their friendship, what was he thinking? Snogging him like it’s his business, just because he’s all overwrought from the Moon? When did Remus become such an asshole, shoving his tongue down people’s throats without thinking about the consequences, without thinking about people’s _feelings_? 

“Remus!” 

And with that Remus finally detaches his eyes from where they’re glued to during his spiral, looking into Sirius’ eyes, afraid of what he might see there (maybe fury, indignation, disgust). But what lays in that beautiful storm is kindness. Patience. And Remus doesn’t understand. 

“Are you done,” Sirius asks, smiling, mischief and amusement glimmering in his eyes. When Remus just nods dumbly, like the twat that he is, Sirius nods back, flicks at the hairs which stick to his forehead, and takes off his leather jacket. Remus takes note of the flush on Sirius’ cheeks and chest, peaking from under the Sex Pistols tee he has on, the same one Remus bought him on Christmas and cut up to his navel. “Good, then. Now, can we go back to snogging?” 

“Sirius,” Remus sighs, struggling to take hold of himself and not just jump into Sirius’ arms. “This isn’t–” he bites his lip, “we can’t,” Remus finishes lamely. 

Of course, Sirius has the audacity to roll his eyes at Remus, bending his body around Remus’, one hand resting on his thigh. And Remus just stares at it, at the rings on his graceful fingers, at the chipped black paint on his nails, all while Sirius whispers into his ear, “c’mon, Moony, live a little. Maybe I’ll even let you shag me for a bit.” 

_Let_ Remus shag him? Remus’ eye twitches. Nobody _lets_ Remus shag them, Remus is the one who makes people beg to get shagged. 

He shakes his head to chase away the thought. Fucking Full Moon. 

Wiggling off Sirius’ touch, Remus scoots further on the seat, careful to not let Sirius get to him. “Pads, we’re mates. _Best mates_. This won’t end well for any of us.” Then, Sirius takes his hand in his, threading their fingers together. The contrast between their skins is nice, Remus thinks absentmindedly. Remus’ cool-toned fairness and freckles and Sirius’ flawless, olive skin blend delightfully. Sirius is smooth, spotless, while Remus’ flesh is mutilated with scars. 

“We don't know if it'll end badly, though,” Sirius whispers into the air, suddenly not looking at him anymore. 

But Remus shakes his head, certain. “It will.” 

How Sirius bites his lip is so juxtaposing to how confident he usually is. Now, though, Remus sees: now he’s timid, unsure of himself. Almost demure. “It’s just shagging,” Sirius swallows, “it doesn’t have to mean anything if we don’t want to.” 

Feeling like he can’t take it anymore, Remus grips Sirius’ chin, forcing him to look into his eyes. Remus’ gold eyes are firm, whilst Sirius’ silver ones are oddly vulnerable. “Our friendship will get fucked if we do this, Padfoot.” Then, something softens in Sirius’ gaze, and he smiles, bringing his hand to wrap around Remus’. 

Shaking his head lightly, Sirius speaks, “it won’t. I’ll make sure of it. Look, we’ll try today, and if we don’t like it we won’t have to do anything more, okay?” 

And Remus can’t believe that he’s actually considering. Six years of friendship and he’s considering ruining it by having sex with his best mate. This close to the Full Moon too. Oh, Merlin, the Moon– Remus closes his eyes, taking his hand off of Sirius, shaking his head. “I’m not shagging you, Padfoot.” 

With that, Sirius sighs, defeated, moving to put distance between them and Remus knows he must’ve got the wrong idea. Remus grasps his shoulders swiftly and sees the puzzled look Sirius throws him. Smiling awkwardly, one corner of his mouth higher than the other, Remus’ gaze bounces from place to place– anywhere but Sirius’ face. Godric, help him, Remus can _feel_ the heat shooting to his cheeks. “Er,” he starts like a git, internally cursing himself. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just– um.” 

_Why_ is this so bloody difficult all of a sudden? Closing his eyes to gather his jumbled thoughts, Remus clears his throat. Do it like a plaster, Lupin. “I want to do this, to– to fuck you, but not, just not today. The Full Moon and all, y’know?” 

When he opens his eyes again, cringing at his own words, Remus sees Sirius’ expression: lips forming an ‘o’, eyes wide and cheeks stained a dark pink, and cringes harder. Merlin’s bloody pants, this is embarrassing. 

“Oh.” Sirius chuckles, cheeks not losing their colour, attempting a smirk that Remus knows is trying to be cocky, even if it’s not working. “Well, I don’t mind if you’re getting a lil’ rough on me, Moony.” He’s leaning back on his arms, though not enough that Remus has to move his hands from Sirius’ shoulders. 

“No,” Remus says with finality, “I don’t want to hurt you on our first time.” 

First time. Oh, sweet Merlin. Both Sirius and Remus’ cheeks set aflame, Remus snatching his hands off of Sirius, and Sirius playing with his own on his lap. Twirling a couple of rings on his fingers, clearing his throat occasionally. 

Groaning internally, cursing himself for being such a fucking poncer, Remus gets on his feet, rubbing at his face. “Right,” he says, “let’s get to it, then.” Sirius nods, silent, and lifts himself up. Remus can’t help but stare at Sirius’ body, finally acknowledging the beauty that is Sirius Black. From broad shoulders, muscled chest covered by that bloody tight tee (was it that tight all along?), to that sliver of tan skin between the hem of his shirt and the high waist of those ridiculous shorts. 

He regards that patch of skin for a while before he moves on to the infamous shorts, almost snorting as he watches a puppy sling his tail from side to side, until his eyes slide lower. Fuck, Sirius has nice legs. Nice and sturdy and golden and Remus out of nowhere wants to feel them around him. Wants to feel Sirius all around him. 

Swallowing the saliva gathered in his mouth, Remus moves his eyes back to Sirius’ face, only to see him looking back with heated eyes. Distracted, Remus wonders if Sirius has been staring at his body as well. He settles on probably not, since there's not much to see with Remus. 

Only when he moves toward his bed that Remus notices the music has stopped. He considers for a second before going to Sirius’ turntable. Hearing a confused sound from behind him, Remus explains, “putting some music on,” before picking at one black album in the vast collection of Sirius and his vinyl. Sliding it out the sleeve, Remus places the dark disk on the turntable, moving the needle all the way to the edge. 

Of course, he’s putting another Pink Floyd. It seems to be his lucky band if the events leading up to what Sirius and Remus are about to do are saying something. He waits until he hears the heartbeat-like pulses, before straightening himself and turning to Sirius. Seeing him leaning back on his bed, Remus inhales deeply, exhales through his mouth, before he starts off to him. 

When he reaches Sirius, Remus doesn’t really know where to go from there. Fortunately, though, Sirius has some idea because he stretches and grasps Remus’ hand, tugging him in. And this is how Remus ends up straddling Sirius, staring into his eyes, heart thumping in his chest painfully, even with the sluggish, sensual rhythms of _Breathe_ in the air. Remus chooses to listen to the song, and he breathes deeply before leaning in and kissing Sirius softly.

__

It’s more like a brush of their lips, but Sirius’ breath hitches in his throat anyway, and Remus has to agree. It’s as if all of his nerves pool in his mouth, because suddenly all Remus can feel is the softness of those lips on his, making his body thrum with yearning. 

__

Sirius’ hands on his back burn through the material of the jumper, and suddenly Remus longs to do something with his own hands. So he tangles them in his Sirius’ hair, undoing the messy bun, placing Sirius’ wand somewhere on the bed, smoothing the inky black locks with his fingers. Remus sighs at the silkiness of it, Sirius sighing back, palms running up and down on him until they end up curled up around Remus’ neck. 

__

Their kiss is languid, unlike the intense one by the window, fiery and unforgiving. This one is searching, learning, both wizards wanting to memorise each and every reaction of the other. Taking their time, muscles relaxed and psyches drunk, their desire lies heavy between them, at the forefront of their minds. 

__

On his back, Sirius looks more delicious than any dessert Remus has ever dreamt of. With those gorgeous silver eyes shimmering in the light, those high cheekbones painted red, those delectable lips plump and ruddy, spit on the corner of Sirius’ mouth. 

__

“Please,” Sirius breathes then, and Remus just has to comply, pressing kisses to Sirius’ eyelids, listening to him whine, before shifting his attention to that spot on Sirius’ neck where the faded hickey rests. He’s biting and licking and most surely darkening it up, marking Sirius because, at the end of the day, Remus is a simple werewolf. Sirius is so pliant underneath him that it makes Remus tremble. 

__

Fearing that he might do something he’ll regret (like biting hard on the flesh of Sirius' neck until he tastes blood), Remus detaches his mouth from Sirius’ neck, just so he can grab the hem of his tee and fling it from Sirius’ form, tossing it Merlin knows where across the room. Sirius goes to do the same with his jumper, but Remus, with his heart beating furiously, grips Sirius’ wrists, pushing them above his head before he can do anything. 

__

Eyes widening, Sirius gasps loudly, tussling against Remus’ clutch, but swiftly realising this is a fight he won’t win. Remus smiles when Sirius finally settles down and moves so he’s holding Sirius’ wrists in one hand, the other falling to his neck. 

__

Calming himself, Remus allows himself to look at Sirius’ chest, taking note of every flawless plain of skin, every beauty mark, every yearning that he wants to turn into reality regarding Sirius’ body. His fingers seem to move on their own accord, and he flicks at one dark nipple, the bud hardening instantly. Remus smiles when he does it again, and Sirius writhes under him, because he knows Sirius is trying to keep quiet, to downplay how much he enjoys it. 

__

Too bad for him that Remus can’t accept that. So when he takes that same nipple between his forefinger and thumb and tugs hard, and all Sirius does is make a discreet sound deep in his throat, it’s safe to assume Remus is displeased. “C’mon, Pads,” he says, rolling the bud again and again, “wanna hear you.” 

__

_And hear he does, because Remus slots his lips over one nipple, his fingers still toying with the other, and Sirius _weeps_. Remus hums, satisfied, tongue whirling against his areola, and he lets the hand holding Sirius’ wrists fall, pride and arousal rising when Sirius doesn’t move his hands. _

__

Gaze skimming over Sirius’ face, Remus sees the pulse in his neck throbbing, Sirius’ lower lip between his teeth. The muscles in his arms are flexing from the effort of not moving, and Remus smiles around Sirius’ nipple, lapping one last time before unlatching his mouth from it (though it’s the last thing that Remus wants to do, frankly). 

__

“Tell me what you want, Pads,” Remus croaks, slightly embarrassed that he’s so affected by all of this already. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind though, because he just squirms. 

__

“Fuck me, please– Moony, I _need_ it,” he cries, eyes tightly shut, throat working around his gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. _He looks scrumptious_ , Remus thinks absentmindedly. 

__

It’s funny how the tables turned– suddenly Sirius isn’t _letting_ Remus shag him anymore, suddenly he _needs_ to get shagged. Weird how Remus knew this would happen. But Remus doesn’t let the smugness of being correct to get to his head. Instead, he allows the power he currently has over Sirius get to his head. 

__

He’s very much aware of what’s been poking him in the thigh this entire time, but Remus only now pays attention to it. Remus is straddling Sirius’ hips, but he still reaches behind himself to push Sirius’ legs open, and Sirius does so eagerly. “Anything but that,” Remus reminds, boastful. And he doesn’t deny the fact that he enjoys immensely how Sirius whines, much like a petulant child, at the thought of Remus not fucking him. 

__

“Only want that, Moony.” Merlin, Sirius is breathing so heavily, it’s heavenly. His chest is rising and falling swiftly, and Remus can almost hear his heartbeat. “Only want your cock,” he adds when Remus doesn’t say anything, as if he knows Remus might break if he begs a little. Too bad for him, Remus has experience with blokes begging their way into having cock shoved into them, so he only leans in to whisper into Sirius’ ear. 

__

“Yeah,” he asks, breathless and Sirius trembles under him, “wanna have some cock in you? Been so long that you’re already that desperate?” Sirius deems mewling as good of an answer as any, so Remus continues with his taunting, highly entertained. “Wanna be held down so you can get fucked properly? Bet you’re so tight right now. Bet you’d cling to my cock so nicely, not wanting me to pull out, huh?” 

__

And Sirius throws his head back, moaning wantonly, a series of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ flowing like a river from his lips. He tries to raise his hips for what Remus can only assume is some friction, but Remus stops him with one steady hand. 

__

Then a light bulb goes off in Remus’ mind, and he smirks evilly. “Wanna be my good boy, Padfoot?” And Sirius is nodding his head, desperate, eyes wide and Remus figures that that’s enough for now. Wouldn’t want to push Sirius too far too soon, of course. Remus can still try another time and see how long it'd take to get Sirius to call him Daddy. 

__

Sliding down Sirius’ body, slick like a cat, Remus comes eye-level with the tent in Sirius’ shorts which was poking Remus all this time. There’s a damp spot in front, Remus notices but chooses to do nothing about it for now. Instead, he commands Sirius to look at him and is rewarded with the hottest expression Remus has ever had the privilege of seeing. Sirius’ eyes are glossy, unfocused and he’s breathing audibly through bruised lips. There’s a faint layer of sweat on Sirius’ forehead and above his upper lip, and numerous hairs are sticking to the sides of his face. 

__

Fuck, Remus can come just looking at that debauched face. But he has better things to do than prioritise his own pleasure. Hence he waits until Sirius brings back some of his mental faculties so he can properly see Remus slip off his shorts and– 

__

Holy mother of Merlin and Morgana, Sirius isn’t wearing pants. Therefore Remus is left gaping at Sirius’ awfully beautiful cock. His pink, pink cock which is leaking precum, the head peeking out from the foreskin. Pink, pink cock with its veins slithering along the shaft, nestled neatly in a neat bed of tight, black curls. Fuck, Remus’ mouth is watering, and he’s quickly losing all of his previous control. 

__

Sirius’ low whine is what brings Remus back to reality, reminding him of where he is, with whom he is and what he is supposed to do. He clears his throat, pretending that he can’t feel either the heat rising to his cheeks or Sirius’ gaze on him, and discards Sirius’ shorts the rest of the way, letting them fall on the floor. 

__

Mesmerised by the way Sirius’ legs fall open on their own accord, Remus licks at his lips. The last thing that he wants to do is to wait any longer until he can taste Sirius. Remus’ hands close around the back of Sirius’ knees, moving them apart, against Sirius’ torso. 

__

And he groans loudly when he finally sees what he wanted this whole time. Sirius’ small hole, tight as he expected, the pucker fluttering at the open-air– far prettier than it should have the right to be. Remus’ eyes snap to Sirius’ face, and he bends over Sirius’ body, legs securely thrown over Remus’ arms. 

__

“Wanna taste you,” Remus breathes against Sirius’ lips, the heat in Remus’ gaze shifting over to Sirius’, their bodies thrumming alongside one another. When Sirius tentatively lowers his arms and Remus doesn’t object, he smiles and drops them around Remus’ neck, foreheads touching, noses rubbing. 

__

“Want you to taste me too, Moony,” Sirius whispers and Remus groans again, lips colliding. Their tongues meet in an instant, sliding against and along each other, teeth nipping, breaths coming out sharply and sparsely. 

__

The fingers in Remus’ hair pull and grip, and Remus’ world goes hazy around the edges, hips beginning to grind into Sirius’ body shallowly, his clothed cock rubbing on Sirius’ naked one. Remus’ mouth falls open for a moan to tumble out and Sirius responds with a groan of his own, encouraging Remus to quicken his pace. 

__

“Oh, fuck _yes_ ,” Sirius keens and his back arches, hips moving to meet Remus’ thrusts and Remus’ hands grip harder at the bed. “Fuck, Moony, Moony, Moony.” Merlin, what Remus would do to hear Sirius say his name like that every day, so breathless and needy. “Faster, please, c’mon– _fuuuck_ ,” Sirius cries, Remus complying only so he can hear Sirius more– he swears he’s never heard something sexier than Sirius’ voice at that moment. Fuck, he’s so close. 

__

“Fuck, I’m so close, Rem–” and Remus’ eyes snap open, breaking free from Sirius’ octopus-like embrace. 

__

“No, wait– don’t come,” Remus tries, and with herculean strength, stops his grinding against Sirius. Weeping in frustration, Sirius clings to Remus’ honey-coloured hair, body strung like a bow until he finally collapses on the bed, glaring at Remus through wet eyelashes. Remus couldn’t agree more if he was honest. 

__

One of Sirius’ hands slips from his hair, travelling down Remus’ neck and collarbone, until it ends on his shoulder, pushing Remus away. “What the fuck, Moony?” Sirius snaps, moving away from Remus, letting his head sink into Remus’ pillow, legs dropping from where they were propped up on Remus’ arms. “Thought the point of this was to get off?” 

__

Still a little out of breath from his near-orgasm, Remus runs his fingers through his sweaty fringe, trying to get it out of eyes and failing miserably. His smile is crooked, one corner higher than the other, and says, “thought you wanted me to taste you?” And Sirius’ blush makes one bloom on Remus’ cheeks as well. 

__

Nodding, Sirius stretches on the bed, thighs spread wide, with one hand resting on the comforter, the other fidgeting on his lower stomach, next to his leaking cock. Remus notices the way Sirius’ cock twitches under Remus’ stare, a bead of precum oozing out of the ruddy head, and raises his gaze to Sirius’ when the latter clears his throat, almost defiant. “Well, get to it, then.” 

__

Remus chooses to say nothing about Sirius’ bossy attitude. Instead, he leans down, taking hold of Sirius’ hand and pressing kisses to his knuckles before lacing their fingers together. Remus pins his hand down on the bed when he hears Sirius’ breath stuttering and continues administrating wet kisses along the navel. Down to the seam of Sirius’ thigh and groin, lapping and gnawing at the dainty beauty mark he finds there, Sirius’ drawn-out moan music to Remus’ ears. 

__

When he lingers at the inside of Sirius’ thigh, the buzzing underneath his skin gets more persistent, until Remus can’t ignore it anymore– and he sinks sharp teeth into Sirius’ flesh, greatly pleased to hear Sirius scream and writhe under his grip. Remus lets go just before he can feel the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, leaving in his path plum indents marrying the otherwise flawless skin. Then he looks up, and Remus’ eyes widen in surprise when he notes the cum painting Sirius’ stomach and chest. 

__

Being at a loss of words, the only thing Remus can do is stare, while Sirius is twitching and fighting his laboured breath on the bed. “Fuck,” Sirius laughs after a long while, throwing his forearm over his eyes, “seems like’s really been a long time. Merlin, can’t believe I came just from some foreplay.” 

__

Chuckling weakly, Remus agrees, trying to sort through his jumbled thoughts. Merlin indeed, Sirius really just came because of Remus biting him. The cock in his trousers throbs and Remus makes great efforts to not press the heel of his palm into it. 

__

He takes a big breath, relieved that Sirius’ face is still covered by his arm so he can’t see the state Remus is in. All hot and bothered from something that definitely shouldn’t get him so hot and bothered. Remus schools his expression into a confident one, smirking. “Hope you can come again, Black, ‘cause I’m far from done.” 

__

That gets Sirius’ attention, and he moves his arm, an elegant eyebrow raised and lips rising into a matching smirk. “Do your worst, Lupin,” Sirius says, getting comfortable in Remus’ bed, hands behind his head, seemingly untroubled by the drying cum on him. 

__

Challenge accepted. Ensuring that Sirius is watching him, Remus swipes this thumb across Sirius’ stomach, through the cum, gathering some on the pad of his finger and sticking it into his mouth. He sucks as he meets Sirius’ dark gaze, pretending not to see how Sirius’ spent cock twitches. 

__

Leaning in, Remus whispers against Sirius’ lips, “wasn’t planning on doing otherwise,” before he promptly licks into Sirius’ mouth, letting him taste himself on Remus’ tongue. Letting him know just how delicious he is. 

__

Before Sirius can wind up his arms around Remus, trapping him, he breaks their kiss. He hovers on top of Sirius for a moment, looking down at him through his shaggy bangs. He licks his lips and with a shit-eating grin, twists Sirius to his stomach. 

__

“What the–” Sirius starts, scrambling to his knees and elbows, only to be pushed down by Remus’ strong hands. Sirius turns his head, throwing Remus a confused look, arched eyebrows furrowed and a light flush to his face. In response, Remus leers, pinning Sirius down by the hips, one hand in black hair wrenching, lips caressing Sirius’ jaw. “Didn’t you say you won’t shag me, Moons? What’re you playing at?” 

__

“Fuck off, Pads.” Remus licks a long stride up Sirius’ jugular until he reaches his lobe, teeth taking hold of the silver earring, twisting the hoop. “Let me do my thing, and you do yours.” 

__

“My thing,” Sirius queries, turning his head to look up at Remus. With their noses touching, Remus just has to bend down a tad. And with that they’re kissing, Sirius pinned between the mattress and Remus, still holding Sirius in one hand. Remus can feel Sirius’ fingers combing through his own honey-coloured hair, gripping hard and pulling harder, and Remus can’t help the moan that pierces along his body, making him shiver. 

__

Only when Sirius breaks off to grin Remus can finally breathe, “your thing,” he pants then, suddenly aware of how naked Sirius is under him. How _not at all_ naked Remus is. His fingers tremble as he runs them in his own sweaty hair, crooked smile on his lips. “Y’know, looking pretty an’ all.” 

__

Sirius turns his head back into the pillow, maybe in hopes that Remus won’t be able to see the blush spread across his cheeks. However, fortunately, he’s still able to admire the red tint along the skin of Sirius’ shoulders and back. “Wanker,” Sirius mutters, and Remus smiles. Who’d guess that Sirius Black was so adorably shy during sex, Remus snickers to himself as he peppers kiss after kiss to each of Sirius’ vertebrae. 

__

Dipping his tongue in Sirius’ lower back dimples, Remus sighs, pleased as he feels Sirius’ shiver under his lips. When he dislodges his mouth from Sirius’ skin, Remus can’t help but approve of the sight before him. From broad shoulders to a strong back, sharp hipbones and that bloody perfect arse, all pert and round just waiting to be bitten into. 

__

And it’s like Remus can’t help himself. Lowering his head, Remus lets his canines rest on the globe of Sirius’ arse cheek. He then grins and digs his teeth in just a tad bit when he hears Sirius’ shuddering breath. But fortunately (or unfortunately?), he stops himself before he bites, only pressing a feathery kiss to the skin, before shifting to get more comfortable. 

__

Ending up on his front, propped between Sirius’ spread thighs, Remus’ stomach flutters and twirls as he opens Sirius’ cheeks, thumbs hovering over his crack. Gulping, Remus asks, “this okay,” even if he doesn’t know who is he trying to get reassurance from. This feels quite surreal, now that Remus’ brain has decided that it’s time to assess their situation. 

__

Sirius– infamous, brave, unreachable Sirius Black– so willing to share this very vulnerable moment with Remus– bland, ordinary, revolting Remus Lupin and it almost feels like Remus is undeserving. But at the same time, something primal, so deep inside Remus, something he mostly fights to ignore, preens at the idea of having Sirius in this position. 

__

He knows what that part represents, and Remus hates himself for it. The Wolf. Merlin, just thinking about it makes Remus shudder, with his hands still on Sirius. It’s so close to the Full as well, the worst possible time to be intimate with Sirius, of all people, for the first time. Remus usually rejects his physical needs this time of the month (and if the beast is especially stubborn, he’ll just summon a guy that Remus knows can take– enjoys even– some brutal shagging). 

__

But now it seems silly to have brushed off all of this because the Wolf is positively leering at the sight. And what a sight it is, Sirius’ small, unassuming hole so close for Remus’ taking. It almost looks indecently innocent with Remus’ scarred fingers around it. 

__

Before he can think of what he’s doing, Remus drags one thumb across the rimmed flesh, the skin soft and pliant under his calloused finger. Tranced, Remus rubs across it once, twice before dipping his finger in just to see how much the ring will give out– and fuck, not much. It’s so tight when Remus presses the tip of this thumb inside, so so tight it feels like it’s pushing him away and he can almost imagine how it’d feel around his cock. Remus wonders if he could thrust in at all, if he could even move while inside, or just grind his pelvis against the supple arse– 

__

“Moony?” Remus doesn’t even realise he’s been lost in his own world until he looks up and sees Sirius staring at him with heated eyes. Sweet Godric, he’s even forgotten Sirius was in the room with him, he’s been that hypnotised with his arse. “You still with me,” Sirius asks with a slight tilt of his mouth, clearly torn between being amused and tense. 

__

Remus is the arse here, frankly. With an awkward smile, Remus nods once, not realising he’s hooking his thumb inside Sirius until he sees him gasping. Removing his finger hastily, Remus hurries for an apology, but then Sirius presses back into him and Remus stalls. Hiding his face in his arm, Sirius murmurs, “more please.” 

__

Sirius will be the death of him, Remus knows for sure now. He once again peers down at Sirius’ arsehole, gulping. Stares at it for a moment, trying to gather his wits. Only when he notices Sirius’ thighs trembling faintly, some of Remus’ confidence strikes back, and he has a plan for attack. 

__

One hand travels over Sirius’ cheek until it finds home across the small of Sirius’ back, keeping him steady. The other spreads him open harshly, making Sirius gasp aloud before Remus dives in. 

__

And Sirius shudders like a leaf. But that doesn’t stop Remus from lapping greedily at Sirius’ crack, pausing only to wrap his lips around Sirius’ hole and _suck_. Remus doesn’t even bat an eye when Sirius starts twisting in the sheets, almost furious with his writhing, only encircles Sirius’ waist with his hands and keeping (trying) him in place. 

__

There’s no telling who’s moaning the loudest (hopefully Sirius, otherwise this is more embarrassing than arousing); Sirius, from the way Remus is trying to wriggle his tongue inside him, or Remus, from the way Sirius tenses when he _does_ manage to get his tongue inside Sirius. 

__

Godric, if only food tasted half as good as Sirius does right now, Remus might be the one always raiding the kitchens, not Peter. Merlin, is Sirius this loud with all his boy toys? He can’t stop pushing his arse into Remus’ face, and Remus can’t for the life of him complain, only wiggles his head between his cheeks, Sirius mewling in response. 

__

Just as he feels a dribble of drool running down his chin, just as Sirius starts humping back into him, with his cute little ‘unh unh unh’s, there’s a shriek ringing in the room– that’s definitely not Sirius’. 

__

“AHH! What the fuck! Peter, don’t come in here, you’ll go fucking blind!” 

__

Cringing, Remus removes his mouth from Sirius’ hole, slowly turning to the dorm door, where James is standing with his hands pressed against his face, glasses askew. 

__

“Wha? What are you talkin’ bout, Pro– AHH! What the fuck is going on here?!” Remus is cringing even harder when he sees Peter appear on the doorstep, only to throw one glance in their direction, then promptly spin back around. 

__

Rubbing the spit from his chin with his sleeve, Remus wants to look over to Sirius, to see if he’s as embarrassed as Remus is. Or, he _would_ look, if only he could move his gaze from where it’s shamefully glued to the floor. His face must be steaming, Remus is sure of it– he could probably cook eggs on his cheeks, fucking hell. Okay, scratch that, he doesn’t actually want to look over at Sirius. If Sirius saw the redness in his face, he’d make fun of him until the day he dies– 

__

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, bugger off already,” Remus hears Sirius spit, and despite himself, can’t help but glance over. And frankly, it kinda steals Remus’ breath away. Sirius is ruddy in the cheeks, but it doesn’t seem to be from embarrassment (probably just residual from their Pre-Interruption Activities), his eyes are dark, but his eyebrows are bowed in an elegant, annoyed frown. He’s sweaty, and his hair sticks to his face. Fuck. 

__

Remus just combs a hand through his own damp hair, only to get it out of his eyes so he can watch better Sirius’ bitten lips move as he throws profanities at James and Peter. 

__

“What the bloody fuck are you talking about?” James yells, not taking his hands off his face, before adding pointlessly, “you two were shagging!” 

__

“Yeah,” Sirius answers, sarcasm dripping off his tone, “ _were_ , not anymore. Because you two are here. Now if you’d be considerate enough to piss off and let us finish, we’d be thankful.” 

__

“I can’t believe Moony was actually…” Peter mutters to himself, before shuddering. Remus’ face burns once again, and he wishes for death now more than ever. Smoothing his wet curls over his eyes, Remus clears his throat awkwardly, not noticing the way Sirius rolls his eyes. 

__

Making an enranged sound, James turns to Peter, “ _you_ weren’t the one to _see_ them mid-action, so shut up, you lucky bastard!” 

__

“I can imagine!” 

__

“Why would you ever want–” 

__

“Okay, children, calm down,” Sirius interrupts, and Remus watches as he lifts himself to sit upright, strategically placing one pillow in his lap. If he’s still hard, Remus will be amazed, because his own dick’s definitely not as energic after talking with James and Peter for so long. “We get it, you don’t want to see us shagging, blah blah blah, you’re scarred for life now–” “Damn right we are!” “– _blah blah blah_. Now, can we have some privacy? ‘Cause I don’t plan on getting dressed until I come. And for your knowledge, I was thiiiis close to–” 

__

“Okay, we’re going now,” James vehemently says, one hand still draped over his eyes (even it’s safe territory now since Remus is sure James and Sirius have been naked around each other before), the other gripping Peter by the arm and dragging him out of the room. “We only came here to tell you lot supper starts in a bit, but I guess you won’t bother with that.” 

__

Right before the door closes, James yells “use protection,” and with that, the room is empty apart from the two of them again. Only now Remus remarks the fact that the music has ended and curses everything and everyone because, fuck, the air is stiff and awkward. Like, the two of them just sit there next to each, but not looking at one another. 

__

That is until Sirius clears his throat, shifting on the bed, and Remus’ eyes are _not_ drawn to the pillow’s movements at all. “‘S pretty chilly, innit?” The question comes almost like a whisper, but Remus still jumps to his feet when he hears it, startling Sirius. 

__

“Yes!” He says then, not looking Sirius in the eye, “I’ll go and close the window.” Marching as far away from Sirius as he can, Remus inhales deeply as he looks down the window, to the hills surrounding the castle, past the Forbidden Forest. Peter’s words ring in his mind, sharp and piercing. Is it that unnatural Remus sleeping with someone? Or is it the fact that he would sleep with _Sirius_ (that Sirius would want to sleep with _him_ )? 

__

It’s not like he’s had any problem in the past with sex without any strings attached, considering that’s what Sirius is looking for. But. He’s never shagged someone who he actually cares about, who he considers a friend– _best friend_. This is going to ruin everything, isn’t it? 

__

Is this what Peter was worried about before? _Can’t believe Moony actually…_

__

Suddenly Remus is so furious with himself. He can’t believe he didn’t think of the consequences of their actions, just went with Sirius’ stupid idea (and when aren’t all Sirius’ ideas stupid?) of shagging. No wonder Peter sounded so mortified with him– Remus is always thinking, overthinking things, ever so anal and diligent about em>everything. And the one time that personality trait would’ve come in handy (aside from pranks), Remus still ends up fucking it up. 

__

“Moony?” Sirius’ voice cuts through Remus’ tirade like a knife through butter. Almost unconsciously, Remus turns to Sirius, and it’s only the image of Sirius sprawled on his bed that finally gets him out of his own head. The thing is, Remus doesn’t really know whether that’s a good thing or not. 

__

This feels– and Remus hates himself for feeling like this– like a battle, and one that Remus is not willing to fight. Wondering whether this makes him a coward, Remus is afraid of going over to Sirius and lying beside him and continuing their previous activities like nothing happened. 

__

Just when he’s considering throwing himself out of the Gryffindor Tower and splashing on the ground like a bag of Thestral dung, Sirius smiles at Remus in a way that makes his stomach go _swoosh_ and Remus is suddenly reminded that he _is_ one of the Gryffindors. 

__

So he musters all his lion courage and gets his ass to lay down next to an extremely naked Sirius Black, all the while fidgeting nervously with his hands, tugging at the thick corduroy of his trousers. Remus is not looking at Sirius, because apparently, this is as far as his lion courage goes. And he’s so stuck in his own self-deprecating world that he startles when he feels a gentle touch on his shoulder. 

__

When Remus looks at him, Sirius is still smiling, and Remus suddenly feels like an inadequate prat. “Still wanna do this,” Sirius asks then. When Remus doesn’t say anything back, he adds, “because I want to.” The hand on Remus’ shoulder loops around his neck, bringing Remus and Sirius’ faces closer together. Their noses bump into each other, and Sirius’ other hand is scratching along Remus’ overgrown undercut, and there’s this haziness that clouds Remus’ mind like fog in winter. 

__

What’s more, Remus can almost taste Sirius on his tongue when he speaks again. “And I know you’re probably thinking some stupid shite right now because that’s just what you _do_. Probably summat like, ‘Merlin, Sirius hates me now,’ or ‘Merlin, I wanna jump out the Gryffindor Tower’.” Sirius keeps talking, but Remus can only concentrate on the way Sirius’ thin, delectable lips curl into a smirk when Remus’ hand falls around Sirius’ exposed thigh. And frankly, how can it not? When Sirius keeps whispering things in that sensual voice that makes Remus want to just pin him to the mattress and take him right there. 

__

And just about when he’s seriously considering the option, what Sirius says next gets Remus’ attention. “But I meant what I said before, Moony. That nothing’s gonna change between us after all this. _I_ ’ll be the one to make sure of it. So stop worrying your pretty lil’ head about this and let’s shag.” 

__

Sirius’ eyes are like made of Gallium, ready to melt into Remus’ hand at only the slightest of touches. And there’s a flicker in those silvery pools which makes Remus realise that Sirius means this– what they have is important to him, and he’ll do anything to prevent their friendship from being ripped apart. It’d feel like betraying Sirius not to trust him. 

__

That’s why what Remus says next is “you think I’m pretty?” And Merlin knows Sirius’ laughter is the most precious thing in the world, like tiny bells singing in Remus’ undeserving ears and making him smile. 

__

Falling onto the bed and bringing Remus down with him, Sirius smiles up at Remus, his eyes glimmering with amusement. His hair is like a dark veil framing his face, arms still encircling Remus’ neck and he’s positively glowing. Not even the sheer patches of red on his cheeks deter from his beauty, Remus thinks; actually, they add to it. Sirius should definitely blush more often. 

__

“Y’know,” Remus says after a while, letting his hand that’s not holding him up wander down Sirius’ side. “It was quite funny– Prongs’ face, I mean– when he caught us. Poor sod’s gonna have nightmares for ages.” Ignoring the way Sirius’ clutch on his neck tightens when he curls his palm around his hip, Remus shakes his head, chuckling at the image of James’ horrified expression. 

__

But Sirius only scoffs, causing Remus to look back at him. “He’s just jealous he wasn’t the one getting _his_ arse eaten out by a sexy werewolf,” Sirius says, wiggling his eyebrows. He bites his lip when Remus’ hand wraps loosely around his cock (which is still _half-hard_ , _how_ is that even possible). 

__

“Dunno, Pads,” Remus says, oblivious to the way Sirius looks at him under lowered lids and long eyelashes. He starts pumping and Sirius’ eyebrows furrow and bend upward. “Merlin knows what he does in his spare time. After all, he _was_ suspiciously interested in how gay sex works, remember?” 

__

But Sirius doesn’t seem to remember at that moment, too busy looking at a spot behind Remus, hazy-eyed and breathless. Especially when Remus swipes his thumb across the slit of his cock and his eyes glitter. Remus tuts at the sight, because, honestly, Padfoot, how selfish of him to not even respond when Remus asks him something. So he flicks his finger right under the head of Sirius’ cock, something that makes Sirius flinch visibly and breath get lost somewhere in his throat. 

__

“Sirius,” Remus chides, and after a moment or two, Sirius finally looks at him. “I was talking to you.” 

__

“Yeah?” Godric, Sirius sounds so _fucked out_ already, and all of that is just from Remus jerking him off for a little. Truly, Sirius knows how to make a bloke feel powerful, even if at the end of the day, Sirius is the one pulling the strings here. 

__

Though, that doesn't withhold Remus from enjoying the honour that is toying with Sirius Black, making him feel like he has no choice but to chase after Remus. Hence, he detaches himself from the beauty that is Sirius, sliding along the bed until his back rests against the headboard, legs spread before him. There’s something so longing in Sirius’ eyes, almost as if he’s pleading for Remus’ permission to lay next to him. 

__

And maybe that’s precisely what Sirius is looking for, and who is Remus to deny him? Patting one of his thighs, Remus smiles back at Sirius when he grins and, almost giddily, comes to rest in Remus’ lap. His powerful legs settle outside Remus’ hips, arms looped lazily around his neck. And for a second they just lay there, nuzzling each other, embracing and the moment is too tender and loving for their situation. Still, frankly, Remus can’t bring himself to complain. It’s peaceful, and he needs peaceful after the week he’s had and will continue to have. 

__

But at some point, ignoring Sirius’ cock that keeps jabbing him in the stomach becomes fruitless. He remembers Sirius’ comment to James that he was close to coming before and grins. Sliding his lips along Sirius’ neck, Remus sees the goosebumps on his skin. Lets his mouth brush Sirius’ lobe. “Still wanna come, Pads?” Remus whispers and Sirius shudders in his arms because he’s lovely like that. 

__

Sirius only nods, and Remus doesn’t know if that’s because he’s too worked up to speak, or because he thinks he’s being cute (which he is but that’s beside the point). “Want me to eat you out again?” Another nod. Remus feels like he’s being bestowed at the image of rimming Sirius. A lightbulb goes off in his head, and he grins into Sirius’ neck. “Wanna sit on my face?” 

__

Of course, since Sirius is a darling at the end of the day, he moans on top of Remus, back bending gracefully. Nodding furiously, Sirius moves away, giving Remus space to lay on his back, head propped against one of the pillows. Then, without a word, Remus pats around at Sirius’ thighs, goading him into straddling his chest. 

__

Looking at Sirius from this angle is a religious ordeal Remus never thought he’d experience. It truly sets in stone just how attracted Remus is to Sirius. And it also consolidates that, even if at the end of the day, Remus is just helping a mate out, he’s also enjoying the fuck out of this. 

__

Smoothing his hands around Sirius’ thighs, Remus prods Sirius closer to his face, licking his lips at the sight of Sirius’ cock literally sitting in front of his face. And Remus kinda wants it in his mouth, but before he can wrap his lips around it, he shakes himself, reminding himself of his objective. So he looks up at Sirius only to see him red in the face, with a funny, wild look on his face. “Okay,” Remus asks in a whisper. And he decidedly ignores the irony that now _Sirius_ is giving reassurances about wanting to continue. 

__

He does seem to want to continue though, Remus notes, even if his nod is brisk and Sirius wets and bites his lower lip. “Yeah,” Sirius breathes. “’S just– I’ve never done this before, y’know?” 

__

“What? Sit on someone’s face?” 

__

Sirius tries to match Remus’ amused tone when he chuckles, but instead, it comes out shaky. “Somethin’ like that,” Sirius answers before his eyes flash to the side. He’s still biting his lip, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know _how_ , and if that isn’t an entertaining thought. Sirius Orion Black– known for his all-too-big mouth that just blurts whatever comes to mind, whenever it comes– unsure about saying something. 

__

But Remus is nothing but a supportive mate, so he rubs gently at Sirius’ thigh, encouragingly, patiently waiting for Sirius to find his words. “To be fair, though,” Sirius continues after a while, “I haven’t been eaten out before either.” 

__

And how is one supposed to react to a statement like that? Remus is not even sure how he’s supposed to feel. Is he supposed to be rueful? Proud? Confused as fuck? All of the above? Should he have checked in more with Sirius before doing this? Did Sirius even _want_ this? “Um, sorry?” 

__

Remus doesn’t really know if he should be offended when Sirius laughs at that, and just like that the disconcerting demure version of Sirius Disapparates into thin air. “What the fuck, Moony,” Sirius barks, still cackling stupidly and Remus is getting annoyed at this point. 

__

Rolling his eyes, he says, “well, what the shit was I supposed to bloody say to that, then!” 

__

“How the fuck am _I_ supposed to know?” 

__

“Then shut your gob already, you ponce!” 

__

But Sirius is still snorting, because scratch that, Sirius is not a darling, he’s a _prick_ , even as he’s settling better above Remus’ head, grasping the headboard for leverage. “No,” Remus says then, stopping Sirius from moving any further. “I don’t even wanna see your face anymore, you turd, turn around.” And Sirius does, but not before he makes a big scene of rolling his eyes, combing his hand through his hair and _finally_ turning around, presenting his arse to Remus. 

__

And, fuck, Sirius might be a tremendous wanker, but Merlin, help him if he doesn’t have a _fantastic_ arse. And it’s right in front of Remus’ face. And Remus’ hands are just itching to grope at it. And, to be frank, what better time there is than the present? 

__

Forcing Sirius to support himself on Remus’ knees, Remus pushes Sirius forward so he can knead at his arse. He digs his fingers in the seam of Sirius’ thigh and hipbone, hand curled around him and thumb prodding in the beauty mark right under his arse cheek just to see how long it’ll take to mark him. Remus’ other hand on its own accord grips around and Remus wallows in the fact that Sirius’ arse fits perfectly in his hands. 

__

“Care to stop fondling me already?” Sirius drawls, looking over his shoulder at Remus. With his hands still on Remus’ raised knees, he huffs. “I know I’m stupendously delectable an’ all that but wasn’t your idea to do more than to gawk at my splendour?” Sirius finishes, wiggling his arse all the way. And even though Remus is used to Sirius’ egotistical antics, he’s frankly getting sick of his shit. 

__

So he spanks Sirius just to get him to behave. “Shut the fuck up already,” Remus says, smoothing his hand over the handprint now forming across Sirius’ arse. It wasn’t a hard slap, just rough enough to get the message across; which it seems that it did. Because Sirius falls silent with a shuddering breath and see? Isn’t it nicer when no dog is yapping around all day? “Good boy,” Remus murmurs and decides to reward Sirius for his sensible decision to finally follow orders. 

__

Pulling Sirius down, arms around his thighs, Remus seals his lips around Sirius’ hole and prods his rim with his tongue. His eyes fall shut as Sirius’s cry seems to be dragged out of him. And he can’t help himself but encourage Sirius to grind back into his tongue, holding gently onto his hips as Sirius twists his hips when Remus rubs just roughly enough at the inside of his walls. 

__

He’s still loose from before the whole Prongs and Wormtail Shebang, so it’s an easy affair to properly fuck Sirius with his tongue, especially when Sirius himself is so motivating. He's aptly riding Remus' tongue, alternating between bouncing slightly then grinding into Remus’ mouth. His whines are coming from somewhere deep in his throat, moaning in time with Remus’ thrusts, before he falls to his elbows with a quiet ‘ _fuck’,_ resolutely dislodging his arse from Remus’ face. 

__

And it’s safe to assume Remus is not pleased with this. His head falls back on the pillow after fruitlessly trying to chase after Sirius’ hole, and he grunts frustrated. “Couldn’t you stay still?” 

__

“M’sorry, Moons,” Sirius whispers in a way that makes Remus almost believe he means it, that is until he starts lapping at Remus’ clothed dick, making Remus buck his hips. He’s murmuring all the way, “Couldn’t help it– you were _that_ good.” 

__

But Remus has to stay strong and resist the temptation to push Sirius’ mouth harder against his cock, so he just rolls his eyes. “Fluttery will get you nowhere, y’know,” Remus says, and he can’t stop himself from smiling when he hears Sirius snickering into his trousers. “Whatever. Move.” Rolling his eyes again as Sirius whines, petulant, Remus sits up. “We aren’t stopping, you daft dog. I just wanna sit– no, keep your head down. Yeah, like that. It’s fine. Good boy.” 

__

With Sirius’ knees on either side of Remus’ hips, Remus lets his hands travel up and down Sirius’ thighs until he rests them on his calves. “Spread yourself for me,” Remus whispers, soft but firm, and he suddenly notices the way Sirius trembles. It takes a moment for Sirius to obey, finally exposing his loose, shiny hole, black nails digging into his cheeks. 

__

Sirius positively looks like sin like this. With his tiny, pink pucker winking wetly at Remus as if trying to seduce him into latching his mouth around it again. But all Remus does is stare at it, admiring the way Sirius clenches around nothing as if he can feel Remus’ gaze on him. 

__

“Yanno, Padfoot, you’re quite the slut, aren’t you?” Remus can feel his lips curl into an evil grin as Sirius tenses at the condescension. Feeling around the meat of Sirius’ thigh, Remus continues with the taunting, “But you knew that already, didn’t you? Waltzing around, bitching all day when you can’t find a cock to fuck yourself with. Pretty slutty behaviour, if you ask me.” 

__

And Sirius deems moaning whorishly as good response as any other and Remus watches as Sirius readjusts his grip on his arse to spread himself better. His hole keeps clenching and unclenching, all pretty and empty and all Remus wants is to fill it up, all the way to the brim. “Look at you,” he says instead, making Sirius arch his back, “putting yourself on display for me. Want me to see how pretty you are, Pads?” 

__

The only thing Sirius seems capable of doing at the moment is moaning from where his face is mashed into the bed, but he still yelps sharply when Remus slaps his thigh. “I asked you a question, Padfoot.” Sirius merely just mumbles into the bedding, burying his face deeper into it. Tutting, Remus slaps him again, this time over the hand holding him open. Sirius yelps again, snatching his hand away as if burned. “Answer me, Sirius. Want me to see how good you look like a slut?” 

__

“...yes.” 

__

“Yes what, Sirius?” 

__

“Yes, I want you to see how good I look like a slut,” Sirius grumbles, and Remus can’t see his face, but he can see the pink stains across his shoulders and back, and that’s enough for now. Caressing the glowing reddenings over Sirius’ arse, Remus lets himself kiss above his hole, making Sirius gasp softly. 

__

“You’re a very pretty slut, Sirius,” Remus coos into Sirius skin. 

__

Remus notes the way Sirius’ fingers clench around the other cheek, the knuckles turning a pretty white as Sirius whispers a quiet ‘yeah?’ And it’s so sweet in its shyness that it makes Remus nuzzle into his arse cheek before pressing a quick kiss to the seam between his arse and thigh. 

__

“So pretty, Pads. You’re so good and beautiful for me, sweetheart. Such a good boy.” Sirius seems to preen under Remus’ praise, his skin luminescent in the evening light. He even turns his head toward Remus, looking up at him, coyly, from between the dark strands of hair. And he’s such a pretty boy Remus just has to reach and smooth the hair out of his face, smiling sweetly when Sirius kisses his palm. 

__

“Like bein’ y’r good boy, Moony,” Sirius slurs, the blush high on his cheeks. His lips seem bitten and red, his eyes hazy but content (finally– after so many weeks where they resembled something so thwarted and sad it made Remus’ chest tight every time he glanced at him). 

__

And Remus hums, contemplating Sirius as he pets his sweaty hair. “What d’you think about a reward, darling,” he asks after a while, smiling when Sirius’ eyes light up. “For being such a good boy.” Sirius is nodding enthusiastically already, and it makes Remus chuckle. And then Remus is settling behind Sirius, letting his hand knead deeply at his arse, finally flicking his tongue over his hole and Sirius lets out a satisfied sigh. 

__

Just as Remus considers licking his way inside Sirius’ arse, there’s a soft ‘Moony?’ and it makes Remus pause. “Pads?” 

__

“Could you like–” a pause, then, “–spank me again?” 

__

Sweet, gorgeous, surprisingly shy-during-sex Sirius who makes Remus’ heart clench inside his ribcage. “Course, baby,” he answers, pressing his lips over Sirius’ rim again. But not before he lays a heavy spank on his arse cheek, smiling when Sirius makes a half whine, half exhale. 

__

“Harder, please.” And when was Remus ever the one to deny no to Sirius? 

__

It doesn’t take long for it to get intense. Sirius’ moans dance through the air of the dorm room, broken occasionally by the slaps Remus lays on him, his arse a satisfying crimson red. And Remus is trying very hard to find every single little thing that makes Sirius tick. It’s like a Siren’s song luring Remus in deeper and deeper every time Sirius moans whenever Remus nips at his rim or prods the edge of his prostate with his tongue. 

__

Being so focused on ignoring his own throbbing cock in his trousers, Remus almost misses the precarious path Sirius’ hand sets to his cock. He grunts, almost offended, knocking Sirius’ hand away. So Sirius' cock is left to continue and leak a stream of precum onto Remus’ jumper, even whilst Sirius whines, “Moony, _please–_ ” 

__

“If you can’t come from my tongue alone,” Remus puffs into Sirius’ arse, breath hot against his shiny hole, “then you’re not coming at all.” 

__

“’M not gonna be able to bloody come if I don’t–” _Smack._ “AH!” 

__

“Weren’t you the one to come half an hour ago jus’ from me teasing you,” Remus asks, knowing his face is very smug as he sees the flush deepen on Sirius’ shoulders. “C’mon, lovely,” he continues then, deciding to spare Sirius a bone. So he slips a finger in Sirius, making him cry brokenly, face tucked in his arms. “Be a good boy and come for me.” Remus can feel Sirius’ walls clenching around him when he drags his finger in and out of him. “Does it feel good, Pads?” 

__

“Ssss-so _good_ , Moons,” Sirius gurgles happily, and he’s weeping and screaming and rocking back onto Remus’ finger, trembling every time Remus rubs at his prostate. “So _oo_ good to me, Moons, please, make me come, Moony– _please_!” 

__

“Come for me, beautiful. Show me how good I make you feel. Come for me.” And Sirius does, when Remus scratches at his already heated arse cheek with his nails, nailing his prostate one last time. And sweet Merlin and fucking Morgana, Sirius sounds _and_ looks like an absolute dream when he comes. With his back arched gracefully, head thrown back, Sirius seems to have his moan punched out of him. Remus is quite afraid he’ll come on his own. 

__

He lets Sirius writhe back on his finger, riding out his orgasm as much as he can until he whimpers pitifully and Remus withdraws. And then he gently maneuvres Sirius off of him, mindful of how Sirius still spasms from time to time from the intensity of– well, of all that happened. Laying there on Remus’ bed, with that cloudy look in his usually expressive, silver eyes, Sirius looks the most tranquil he’s ever been these last few weeks. 

__

And Remus. Well, bloody hell, Remus would lie if he said he’s not proud as shit of himself. For making Sirius (who usually seems like his magical spirit’s too big for his body to contain) gaze into nothingness, scent peaceful and expression idyllic. He has every right to be boastful, Remus concludes, he just helped his best mate. And what is Remus, if not a supporting pillar his mates can turn to? 

__

Remus smiles and wonders around the bed for Sirius’ wand so he can cast Cleaning Charms on both of them. Flopping gracelessly on the bed next to Sirius, Remus stares at the canopy for minutes on end, listening to Sirius’ mellow breathing and revelling in how quiet the Wolf is, for once. 

__

Just as he closes his eyes, Remus feels rather than hears Sirius stir slightly. “Merlin’s saggy tits,” Sirius breathes and Remus opens his eyes, looking into Sirius’ watery, full of wonder eyes. 

__

Grinning, he swipes Sirius’ lovely hair out of his wild eyes, saying, “if that’s the first thing you think about right after I ate your arse, Pads, dunno if that says more about my rimming skills or your disturbing fetishes.” 

__

“Wanker,” Sirius grins back, swatting at Remus’ chest before letting his hand rest there– and Remus can swear there’s warmth where Sirius fiddles with his threadbare jumper. Closing his eyes for a moment, Remus opens them again when Sirius speaks, voice keen. “Gimme a minute, yeah? Then I’ll return the favour.” 

__

Too focused on the way Sirius’ fingers knot in the knitting of his jumper, it takes a second for Remus to register the words. But when he does, his eyes widen, and he shakes his head promptly. “Sirius, you don’t have to–” 

__

“I want to.” Sirius looks strangely solemn when he interrupts Remus. “’Sides,” he continues, “it wouldn’t be sensible of me not to wank you _at least_. After you properly ate the soul out of my arse–” Sirius then grins, waggling his eyebrows at Remus, “– and don’t think I don’t see how lil’ Moony over there needs a helping hand.” 

__

Only when Sirius slides his naked thigh over Remus’ clothed one to rub at the obvious tent in his trousers that Remus finds it in himself to gulp and nod weakly. Smiling more sweetly now, Sirius stops his torturous administrations and closes his eyes, settling his head more comfortably on Remus’ shoulder– and honestly, when did he put his head there in the first place? Laying there, Remus notices some things about Sirius’ face. How his eyelashes are long and eyebrows naturally arched in such a funny way it makes him always look mischievous. How his lips twitch up softly in his usual mocking smile. How there are no stressed lines between his eyebrows anymore. 

__

“M’sorry, by the way.” 

__

“Hm?” 

__

There’s a long-suffering sigh from Sirius firstly before a reply. “I’m sorry, okay?” Then Sirius opens his eyes and nonchalantly rolls them at Remus’ blatant confusion. “For, dunno, I guess assuming you were a bottom or whatever?” 

__

Remus snorts. “You say that as if I’d be offended people thought I were a bottom. I really don’t give a shit, Sirius. It’s fine.” 

__

“Well, it’s not that I thought– believed you wouldn’t top. It’s just that–” Sirius licks his lips, shifts his eyes to the side, then back on Remus’. “It was easier to think you were one since I always– I mean, since you never–” 

__

And Remus waits and waits for Sirius to continue, even when he knows he won’t. His lips are stretched in a thin line. His silver eyes visibly flick from looking into one of Remus’ eyes then the other. And the most peculiar: there’s a new blush blooming on Sirius’ cheeks. At some point, Remus has to press, “Since I never what?” 

__

A conflicted look dances across Sirius’ features, but it goes away in less than a second. “Well, you never really talked about your sexual escapades so… I didn’t really know what to expect. I guess now it’s a lil’ stupid to think you’d be anything but bossy in bed. You have the air for it.” 

__

Deciding to ignore the last part (what the fuck is that supposed to _mean_ ), Remus barks a laugh. “Didn’t know part of the Hogwarts curriculum was for all of us to share our ‘sexual escapades’. Just because you halfwits enjoy perorating about how you like your cocks sucked doesn’t mean all of us do.” 

__

Sirius, being one of the said halfwits, only wiggles his eyebrows. “See? Now _that_ bit of information would’ve been helpful in crucial times like these when I’m about to suck _your_ cock.” And Sirius goes to swing his leg over his waist, not really straddling Remus as much as stretching on top of him, chin resting on his raised hands as he looks down at Remus. His elbows pressing heavy in Remus' chest. 

__

And truly, with all his heart, Remus tries his best to not think about _that_ image. But he’s a simple man and the thought of Sirius’ unfairly luscious, pouty lips stretched around him makes his cock throb. And Sirius has to feel it, because he smirks like a twat. 

__

“Y’know, Padfoot,” Remus rolls his eyes, “usually the people who most boast about getting some are the ones most insecure about their flings.” 

__

That gets to Sirius, exactly how Remus knew it would. “How dare you!” Snatching his wand from the bed and flinging a Stinging Hex at his side, he successfully makes Remus squawk, then laugh. “Implying that _I_ would be _insecure_? About my _flings_ of all things! I’ll have you know I have suitors lining up at the door just to glance at my pillowy arse,” Sirius finishes with an air of great self-importance, arms folded, on top of Remus. He’s still holding his wand, so Remus needs to thread carefully. 

__

“Sure, Pads. That’s why you had to acquire help from you may-be-bottom mate to get laid.” Okay, so maybe Remus has never been good at threading carefully with Sirius. He gets another Hex thrown at him. 

__

“Y’know what, you wanker,” Sirius says then, glaring holes at Remus, “go get off by yourself if you wanna be a big ponce.” And with that, he gets off Remus, deciding to sulk next to him instead, making Remus chuckle. 

__

“I mean, I did say you didn’t have to do get me off anyway, remember?” Placing his hands behind his head, Remus closes his eyes, counting _one, two, three, four_ – 

__

“ _Ugh_! You’re insufferable, y’know that?!” And Remus wheezes, hands falling to his stomach, almost breathless in his laughter, especially when he feels Sirius settle between his legs. “Oh, do shut your gob already,” Sirius scolds, fighting a grin of his own. “I really don’t know why I put up with you,” he wonders loudly, shaking his head ruefully, even if he unbuttons Remus’ trousers. 

__

And Remus does shut his gob, but only so he can run a hand through Sirius’ hair, watching him take his (still) half-hard cock out of his trousers. He bites his lip when he hears Sirius mutter angrily under his breath, “fuck, you’re bigger than I thought.” 

__

“You’ll blow me, but then we’ll have to take a look at your arse,” Remus whispers, already breathless. “I’m worried I was too rough.” 

__

Staring for a moment into each other’s eyes, in Sirius’ silver eyes swims gratitude, fondness and Remus can only hope his own love for his mate transmits into his own gaze and smile. 

__

Remus notices the first signs of a lovely flush high on Sirius’ cheeks when he turns back to his dick. “Stop being such a bird when I’m trying to suck you off, Moony,” Sirius says, voice shaky with emotion. Remus chuckles lightly, a blush of his own heating up his face. 

__

And maybe, Remus thinks, moaning when Sirius licks at the slit of his cock, perhaps he can do this. 

__

**Author's Note:**

> im gonna write a part 2 to this :D just because i already have a semi-clear vision of how i want this to continue and im lowkey excited  
> dont expect it to happen very soon tho since only this took me like 1 year in order to find enough motivation & finish it (and part 2 i think will have multiple chapters bc im attempting some Plot)


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